root-book

Violence is a drug, and Sarah is six years sober. Over half a decade has passed since a stream of crimson effluent has last kissed the side of her cheek, yet - despite the march of seasons - she can''''t quite forget the taste. It''''s too worked into her mouth - too stuck against the back of her teeth. Some among the Offal Sea would consider that only natural. The humans they''''ve conspired against on Earth might call it her just deserts. Sarah views it as an unwelcome obstacle, when she''''s already struggling to put the past behind her. She has rent to pay, after all - and a grandmother she''''s come to love. She doesn''''t have the energy to force her gorge down every time she looks in the mirror.